Wild Cowboy Ways (Lucky Penny Ranch #1)(72)

That antsy feeling that said someone was staring at her made her look over her shoulder. Blake’s lips curled into a smile when their gazes locked and held for several seconds. When she started to turn back around, she caught Grady’s gaze from the other end of the pew. It had the intensity of a hungry hound chasing a rabbit and made her skin crawl.

Trust my heart when it failed me? Trust my sister’s advice when it makes me want to run for the hills? Maybe I should simply forget all about men and become a nun. I bet a convent could use my skills as a carpenter.



If the pistols resting between her breasts could have fired for-real bullets, Allie would have aimed, fired, blown away the smoke, and toted her sister’s lifeless body out to the back side of the twenty acres known as Audrey’s Place for the buzzards to feast upon when the family got back to Audrey’s after church.

Damn Lizzy’s sorry ass to hell for eternity. Allie didn’t even care that she was damning a soon-to-be preacher’s wife or that the little dinner place cards done up with pictures of hearts were a right cute idea. She was sitting smack dab between Grady and Blake and Lizzy had done the planning.

Every ugly deed does have its comeuppance. Lizzy got hers because the only place left for her to sit was between generic old Mitch and hotter’n the devil’s little forked tail Toby Dawson. It would serve her sister right to be as miserable as she was.

Her mother sat at one end of the table. Granny sat at the other end and on each side there was a sister between two men. If that didn’t set Granny off into a cussin’ fit or else send her back to talking about Walter nothing could.

“Nice to have a full table today.” Granny picked up the basket of hot rolls, put two on her plate, and passed them to her right. “Lizzy, why are you sitting between a preacher man and a hot cowboy? Are you trying to figure out which one you like best?” She leaned forward and whispered. “I’d take the hot cowboy. He’ll be more fun.”

It was as if someone pushed a MUTE button. One second conversation flowed, then presto, everything went quiet. The silence was every bit as deafening as it had been over at the Lucky Penny when that hussy announced that she was Blake’s wife.

Toby finally broke the awkward silence. “Did you make these biscuits, Miz Irene? They taste just like my granny’s and everyone loves hers down around Muenster.”

“Muenster…Texas or Oklahoma? Where is that place? Is that where the Amish people live? We ain’t of the Amish faith, not that there’s anything wrong with that if you are. Mitch, here, has some of that in his blood, don’t you, Mitch?” Irene said.

“No, ma’am. Not me,” Mitch said quickly. “I’m all for keeping the word of God but I do like electricity and modern plumbing.”

“Hmmm.” Irene pursed her lips. “Way you treat Lizzy, I figured you’d come from one of those strict religions. Oh, well, here you go.” She passed the green beans to Toby. “They’re real good. Katy cooks them with lots of bacon and onions.”

“Thank you,” Toby said.

Allie caught Lizzy’s sharp intake of breath when Toby passed the bowl off to her. She took out a heaping helping of beans and gave them to Mitch. And nothing happened when Mitch’s fingers deliberately covered Lizzy’s: zilch, nada, nothing at all. So the sexy cowboy did affect Lizzy. Yes, sir, paybacks were definitely a bitch.

Before the beans made it to her, Grady slipped his hand on her thigh and squeezed as he whispered, “You look lovely today. I like you all dressed up much better than in those ugly cargo pants. You should do it more often.”

Zilch. Nada. Nothing at all, other than a major irritation until she picked up his hand and put it back in his lap. “Thank you but I’m much more comfortable in my work clothes.”

“Why are you talking about britches at the Sunday dinner table?” Granny asked. “In my day, ladies wore dresses and they only put on britches to ride horses or do chores outside on the farm.”

Blake’s knee pressed against hers and his simple touch jacked her blood pressure way on up there. She felt like Abigail in her favorite LaVyrle Spencer novel, Hummingbird. The sensible choice was the man Abigail was nursing back to health in the downstairs part of her house. But the one that made her heart sing was the bad boy upstairs with a bullet hole in his body. The one who called her Abby and set her free from the strict rules of society, the one she couldn’t wait to talk to every day.

Grady called her Alora. Formal. Rigid.

Blake called her Allie. Sensible. Happy heart.

She understood the character Abby so much better that day.

“Penny for your thoughts, Allie,” Blake said.

“I’ll pay a dollar for them, Alora.” Grady grinned.

Allie glanced at Lizzy. “I might sell them to the highest bidder and use the money to buy whatever is making my sister blush.”

“I’m not blushing. It’s hot in here from all the cooking,” Lizzy stammered.

“Does Walter still live at the Lucky Penny?” Irene blurted out. “Has his mother died yet? I get confused about time and I can’t remember if he moved.”

Allie leaned forward, ignoring both men, and said, “No, Granny, Walter moved years ago. I don’t know if his mother is still living or not.”

“Probably is unless someone drove a stake through her heart. I might take a Sunday afternoon walk over there and see if Walter is still there,” she said.